Legacy
by Art n' Music
Summary: The queen turns around, ready to leave the empty space, when she comes face-to-face to a person with piercing blue eyes that freezes one's soul to their core. "Winter can never be controlled, Elsa," the woman forebodingly hisses, the words echoing in the air. She then smiles, sharp fangs glinting from an unholy light. "It's nothing more than a beautiful monster."


**Whew. Okay. Finally got this finished and out. Hopefully it's put into the site before the new FROZEN II comes out (Though I doubt it. Wouldn't be surprised if there was an early showing for it).**

**Now, I don't usually do this, especially since I myself don't usually read these, but I hope you take a minute, maybe thirty seconds if you're a fast reader, to glance through this. I'll keep it short. If you don't want to, by all means, skip to the story.**

**Now this story of mine has been in my back shelf of ideas, just gathering dust for years. To be specific, a little after Frozen came out. I've been wanting to post this since then, but something just kept me from hitting 'enter'. But now, it's done, and it's on, and I hope you readers like it!**

**As for any of you followers, all I can say is "I am sorry" so many times. You all wanted me to continue my other stories, to come back, and I did nothing. I don't really know what my problem was. Maybe I just lost my mojo, or something. I really want to give you the entertainment you want, so I really, really hope I will stick to this one. And if any of you are wondering about my other stories, all I'll say is that if I have a chapter done, then I'll post it. Other then that, I will be sticking to this one, and only this one. One step at a time, people. (And I really need to take one step at a time. I already have sequels planned for this, and I haven't even posted the first story. What is wrong with me?)**

**Anyway, hopefully that was short enough. Onto the story. So read, review, and, above all else, hope you enjoy LEGACY.**

* * *

**I: The Return**

Within an endless expansion of darkness, the click-clack of heels ring across the obsidian-like floor. Pale platinum hair and stunning blue crystalline dress shines against the inky black, and Bright, crystal blue eyes glances around the area. The young woman takes a few more steps before coming to a halt, noticing the usual clicking has turned into a crunch. Looking down, she finds the floor covered in a patch of snow, and in the center is a boulder. Nothing of interest about the large rock, other than the snow sitting atop it. Looking around again, she spots a few more patches of snow within the shadows, some with various shaped rocks, others with nothing. However, one snow spot catches her interest. Sitting in the spot is, rather than a boulder, a sculpture. The woman walks toward it, and, upon closer inspection, finds it is a simple pedestal made of, what appears to be, ice. And floating on top of the pedestal is an intricately crafted snowflake.

Her snowflake.

As curious as she is about the random pedestal and the snow that has littered the area, she looks away and scans the darkness again, having more important matters to deal with.

For this area, this space of emptiness and loneliness, is familiar to her. The cold despair wrapping around her, as if trying to leech any good feelings she may have, suffocating her in misery. Other than the sudden new landscape, nothing has changed in the slightest in the morose expanse.

Anybody else would be sorely confused and frightened if they found themselves in an empty place like this. But not the woman. She is far too accustomed to the area. In fact, one could say it was her home away from home for the past thirteen years.

"Why did you come back?" she calls out, despite the lack of any other presence. She gets an answer, however.

"I missed you, Elsa," a woman's voice, cold and unforgiving as an iceberg, pipes from no discernable source. "I missed talking to you."

Elsa the Snow Queen catches a glimpse of white to her left. She turns, but finds nothing but a small patch of snow and the shadows. "I thought you were gone."

"I may have been absent for a while; but you, of all people, should know that winter always returns. If it works for the seasons, why not us?"

"That may be, but your presence is no longer needed. I have my sister to help me, and friends. I'm not the scared little girl you know anymore."

The voice doesn't answer immediately. A cold breeze suddenly brushes past her, and the voice whispers into her ear.

"_Then, why am I still here?_"

A cold shiver drips down the queen's spine and reaches across each limb. A bubble of doubt sprouts in Elsa's mind. She twists her head to find the voice, but she finds no one.

A triumphant chuckle echoes from the darkness, and the mysterious woman teases, "No matter what you tell yourself, you _are_ afraid. The fear, the anger, the sadness; it still resides in you. Not only on what harm your magic can do, but what the people think of you; what your _sister _might think. That is not something that goes away easily."

"That's not true!" The queen tries to sound confident in her words, despite the bitter anxiety growing inside. "My kingdom does not fear my magic. Anna still sees me as her sister. She has assured me that nothing can change that."

"Are you absolutely sure your _entire_ kingdom accepts you?" the voice counters. "If I recall, there was a preacher, I believe that's what he called himself, who went against you and your abilities. He called them 'gifts of the devil', if my memory serves."

A flow of magic races across the floor in front of Elsa. However, it is not the familiar magic she wields. Unlike the feeling of beauty and wonder, this magic feels completely different; dark, and malign. Where her magic is like gently falling snow, this feels more along the lines of an unforgiving storm of ice.

A thin slab of ice rapidly grows from the obsidian floor, and from within it a shimmer appears. After a few seconds, the shimmer clears, showing the moment of her time when she went to a yearly festival with her sister some months ago. A man, the Preacher, appeared from the crowd and started spouting about demon's gifts and the queen being an embodiment of evil. Before he could say more, though, the soldiers came in and dragged him away. That was an upsetting day.

"That-that was just-"

"Let's not forget the attempted assassination last month."

The image on the ice wall changes. A man comes to the throne room, questioning about Elsa's loyalties and how she will use her power, despite her assurance of her devotions to Arendelle. With the way he worded it, it sounded as if the queen will start a conquest. Then, he suddenly pulls out a knife and throws it at her head. Thanks to Kristoff's quick thinking, though, he pushed the queen away before the weapon could strike, and the man was locked up then sent away.

"You can't blame him, or the others. They were just-"

"Scared?" the voice finishes.

The queen tries to say something else, to refute, but her voice refuses to work. She has nothing to object.

"There is the thought of those outside of Arendelle, as well. You did send the thirteenth son of the Southern Isles home detained, and you cancelled all business with Weasel town." The voice chuckles. "Those were some pretty interesting choices. I wonder how the royalties feel about them."

"They attempted to kill me!" she shouts, her nervousness starting to affect her demeanor. "That was something I could not forgive, and the kings know that."

"True, true," she mutters. "And your sister does love you, I cannot deny that. To her, you will always be her sister. _But that's not what you see when you look at her_."

Any courage she had left fades away. That fateful day suddenly returns, bringing tears to her eyes.

"_Wait, slow down. Anna!…No…no…"_

"No…" The queen grips her head and clenches her eyes closed, trying to rid the horrid memory, but it's permanently imprinted in her mind. The fear she felt on that day returns, crushing her spirit, until there's nothing but a trembling husk. Frost briskly creeps around her feet, spreading across the black floor.

"Every time you look at her, you remember those days. It clenches your heart and tears apart your soul, and the same thought always comes to your head. You're afraid that the same thing will happen again. But will it be too late?"

"No. No, that's not true," she whispers, her voice cracking, her mind plunging into deeper anguish.

"You can't protect her forever, Elsa. Standing beside you is like standing in a blizzard. All she'll do is **freeze**."

"**ENOUGH!**" she snaps, the floor around her feet quickly covering in menacing frost and ice. Crystal spikes shoot up, stretching into the darkness, spearing a nearby boulder apart, as if wanting to injure the being making their mistress upset. "No more! I am not afraid anymore! I have everything I need now. I have my kingdom. I have my sister back. I have control over my powers. I don't need you anymore. So just leave! Leave me alone!"

The voice doesn't answer back. After a few moments of silence and calming breaths, she releases her clenched, pale hands, and she wonders if she truly is gone. Hoping, the queen turns around, ready to leave the empty space, when she comes face-to-face to a person with piercing blue eyes that freezes one's soul to their core. "Winter can never be controlled, Elsa," the woman forebodingly hisses, the words echoing in the air. She then smiles, sharp fangs glinting from an unholy light. "It's nothing more than a beautiful _**monster**_."

Stunned with fear, she backs away from the frightful woman, when a roar shakes the very air. The queen turns around and finds two blazing orbs shining through the shadows, staring down at her like a predator to prey. She can't move, can't even breathe, as she stares at the empty voids of death. With a mighty bellow, it spews out fire, casing her in burning flames.

* * *

Elsa's eyes snap open as her body shoots up in panic, a short scream escaping her lips. With quick, frightful breaths, she looks around wildly while clutching the winter-decorated quilt in her palms. When she sees the familiarity of the walls of her room and the furniture, the queen tries to calm her frantic heart, chanting, "It was just a dream. It was just a dream."

Finally, she calms down a bit, but her nerves are still incredibly frazzled. It doesn't help that a surprising knock sounds from the door, making the Snow Queen shriek and nearly fall off her bed, even though it's king-sized. Clutching her chest where her heart is, she pants, "Oh, god."

"Oh! My apologies, Queen Elsa. I didn't mean to startle you."

"No, it's alright," she says, realizing it's just Kai, her loyal servant and overseer. "I'm just a little wearied, that's all."

"The dream again, I presume?" He asks from behind the door.

The queen doesn't answer back. On the other side of the door, Kai sighs, then he says, "These dreams are getting out of hand, my queen. Might I suggest finding a way to make them…less bothersome?"

No answer comes from inside the room. The servant was about to speak again when the door opens, and Elsa states, "Kai, if I knew how to stop them, believe me, I would. But, I can't. I don't even know where to begin to make them stop." She sighs and rubs her eyes, and Kai can see the dreams are taking a toll on her. There are faint shadows around her eyes, a sign of lack of sleep, and her body appears more worn out than rejuvenated. But what worries him most are her eyes. They show signs of fear and paranoia. A look he was hoping would never return.

After a slight pause of silence, he suggests, "Maybe you should console with someone about these problems. Perhaps Anna will like to help."

The queen smiles. Knowing her sister, she would love to. But, recent events make her rethink the option. "I don't want to worry her any more than she already is. Kristoff is overdue to return, and Anna isn't coping well. So, I think it'll be best if I hold off on telling her, for now."

"As you wish. But, you know your sister hates it when you hold back secrets from her," he remarks.

"I know. That's why I'm just waiting until Kristoff gets back. Then I'll tell her."

Knowing when his queen won't budge, he says, "Very well. Now, onto business." Kai pulls out a small scroll and starts reading off today's duties. Elsa tries to listen and memorize the list, but she finds it hard since her mind continues to wander off. She has had other dreams—nightmares, really—that have caused her to panic, but this is the first time she has returned to **that** place in months. It could have been a coincidence. She has started to become fearful of sleeping, in case the dream returns. It could have just been a defense mechanism made by her mind to help her abide the fear.

But, this visit was different. Not only was it a different landscape, even if it was just a few boulders and patches of snow, Elsa also saw a physical manifestation of the voice. She doesn't remember much details about her; only the eyes. They were similar to hers, yet entirely different. They were cold, colder than the most northern lands known to man. They held so much malice and pain and grief that it was unimaginable. She doesn't believe anyone can live with that much negativity inside them.

…

Could…could it be possible that the woman was herself?

…

"…And, as a reminder, the council has called for their monthly meeting in three days. Breakfast is ready in the dining hall whenever you're ready, your majesty."

Snapping back to reality, Elsa quickly nods, "Thank you, Kai."

The overseer bows his head and takes his leave, and Elsa walks back into her room to ready herself for the day, thoughts still wondering about the manifestation. No, there is no way that person could have been her. And yet, she can't stop thinking 'what if'? If things have played differently in the past, could she have ended up being like that person?

_No, stop Elsa. There is no reason for what-ifs, _the queen reprimands herself. _That chapter of your life is over. As Anna has said, 'there's nothing but happiness in the future now'._ With a smile, Elsa begins preparing for the her hair is combed and braided to her liking, some make-up is applied, particularly around her eyes, and has changed into suitable attire—namely her ice dress without the side opening, and a long-sleeved light blue shrug top replacing her extra-long cape (the Snow Queen has a reputation to uphold)—the queen exits her room and heads down the hall toward the dining room. On the way, servants say their good mornings to the queen, and she politely, and happily, replies back. The gates may have been open for nine months already, but she cannot get enough of the company of others, even if they are servants. Even Anna is enjoying the open gates to its fullest extent. Almost every day, for most of the day, she goes out to the village with her two-month-long husband Kristoff, and sometimes Olaf, to either visit the stores or play with the children.

The company she enjoys the most is her sister's. Whenever she can, she has been sticking to Elsa's side like glue. Of course, the queen never minded. She got to spend the needed time with her sister, something she was neglected after the Accident thirteen years back. Whenever they can, the two sisters would travel to the village or visit the spring that Anna, Kristoff, and Sven found almost a year ago. Of course, since the marriage, she's been spending more time with Kristoff and, even though Elsa is happy for her sister, she does miss her time together, sometimes.

Speaking of Anna, the Snow Queen finds her sitting at the table eating her breakfast, which comes as a complete surprise to her. Usually, she's still asleep until, at least, nine when Kai comes to wake her up. And the fact that her hair is already braided instead of the usual morning rat's nest means the redhead has been up for a while now. "Anna?"

Hearing her name, the princess looks up and brightens when she sees her sister. "Elsa! Morning," she beams, getting up. There are still bits of bread on her face.

She asks, pointing to the cooked dough in Anna's hand, "Are you eating my roll?"

The redhead hesitates, glancing at the bread as well. "No."

The queen rolls her eyes while smiling at her sister's childish antics. Walking to the table, she grabs a bowl and says, "Well, at least you didn't touch my oatmeal."

"Sorry, Elsa. I was just hungry."

"No need to apologize. But I'd be careful. You don't want to get fat, do you?" the Snow Queen smirks.

"Oh please, like that'll happen," she boasts.

"So, what are you doing up? Usually, you're still in bed at this hour," Elsa takes a bite of her oatmeal.

"Well, it's nothing to worry about. Just had a little morning sickness and I couldn't get back to sleep."

"Again?" For the last few weeks, Anna has been having random flus in the morning. Normally, one or two can be debunked as food that has gone bad, but the kitchen has been restocked with fresh produce, and her sister is still getting sick, even if it was temporary. "Anna, I think this is starting to become a problem. Have you visited the doctor yet, like I suggested?"

"I have, don't worry. He gave me the medicine for it and instructions to help feel better faster. I'm fine."

"You sure?"

"Positive," she assures with a nod, though her eyes flinch away. Elsa doesn't take notice and relaxes. "Alright then. So, what are you going to do today?"

"Ooh, I don't know. I mean, there are a lot of things to do. Stroll around the kingdom, play with the other kids and Olaf, listen to some storytellers," she then mumbles, "Wait for Kristoff to come back."

The queen asks, though the answer is obvious, "You're still worried about him, aren't you?"

"It's been TWO WEEKS, Elsa!" the redhead suddenly panics, spooking her sister. "Why wouldn't I be?! I mean, why is he so late? Did an avalanche get him? Did he fall down a cliff? Did wolves get to him?! I don't know what happened to him!" To the queen's surprise, she can see tears gliding down her face. What has gotten into her?

"Anna! Calm down," she advises, putting down the bowl and walking up to hug her sister. "You're overreacting. If anything did happen to Kristoff, we would've gotten a notification by now." Separating, she assures, "I promise you, he's fine."

The princess relaxes a bit and smiles, wiping the tears off her face. "Okay. Yeah. You're right. He's totally fine."

Again, Elsa is put-off by the sudden change, though she doesn't show it. Maybe the flu is affecting her more than she thought.

The door opens, alerting the sisters of another presence. A small being, the size of a child, walks in on stubby white feet, his stick arms waving side to side, a small cloud raining snowflakes following his every move. "Hi Elsa! Hi Anna!" he shouts in his cheerful voice.

"Hello, Olaf," the queen greets while the princess says, "Hi." The Snow Queen asks, "What brings you here?"

"Oh! Well, first, I came to say good morning to you all. Also, I thought I would tell you that I saw Kristoff riding into Arendelle with Sven, and he looked a little-." A wind suddenly blows throughout the room. Elsa looks around and finds her sister gone.

"Wow. She's really excited to see Kristoff," Olaf says.

"You have no idea." Elsa heads out the doors, intent on following her sister, while the living snowman waddles beside her.

On their walk, the Snow Queen thinks back to the dream. She plans on keeping the promise to tell Anna about it when Kristoff returns. She was just hoping, slightly, she'd have another day or two before telling her. Of course, luck is usually never on her side.

Well, now she just needs to get Anna alone, and she'll inform her. She doesn't feel comfortable consoling private matters in front of her sister's husband, even if they are good in-laws and friends.

* * *

Kristoff rides into Arendelle on his sleigh with a sigh, glad he's finally back. The last week was hectic. The ice harvester guides his best pal, Sven the Reindeer, through the town toward the stables, and friendly faces greet him as he passes by. He nicely replies back with either a wave, or a "Hello". He soon arrives at the royal stables and unstraps Sven from the sled, saying "Alright there, buddy, we're home, finally."

"_It is good to be back," _Sven 'says', though the voice comes from Kristoff. Sven merely does head motions. "_I must say;_ _that storm was mind-blowing_."

"Yeah, tell me about it. I wonder what Anna will say when I tell her." As he was about to leave, his friend brays at him, and the ice harvester says, "Yeah, I guess you deserve one. Here you go, pal." He pulls out a carrot and hands it to Sven, who takes it in his mouth. "Now, time to go see my wife."

"Kristoff!"

The said-person turns around, but he barely has time to wonder who called when something hyperactive and red collides into him full force, and they both fall onto a haystack. After brushing off some stray hay of his face, he looks at his chest to see a beaming Anna hugging him tightly. "You're back!"

Kristoff laughs and hugs Anna back. He assures, "Yeah, I'm back."

As soon as they get back on their feet, the redhead asks hastily, "What happened? Why are you so late? You're not hurt, are you?" She starts checking for injuries rapidly.

"Whoa; calm down, Anna. Sven and I are okay. We were heading back after harvesting the ice, but then we ran into a huge rainstorm-"

"What?! Are you alright?"

"I'm fine, don't worry. Anyway, we had to find shelter until the storm passed. I would have braved the storm and came back sooner, since Arendelle was a day's away, but it looked really devastating. I mean, the trees were actually bending from the sheer force of the wind and there were some bad mudslides, from what I heard."

"Well, the good news is, you're home now," she states before leaning in and kissing Kristoff, who returns it gleefully. Unbeknownst to them, Elsa enters the stables with a playful smile, while Olaf runs up to Sven and greets the reindeer. The Snow Queen, thinking they had enough time, asks the couple, "Am I interrupting something?"

Shocked, the two separate and stare at the chuckling queen. Their cheeks begin to tint red from embarrassment, which makes the queen chuckle more. "You know," she says, calming down, "Your room is warmed and ready if you want to continue this."

"Very funny, Elsa," Anna scoffs, while Kristoff awkwardly returns to untying Sven, even though it's redundant. The princess says back, "Just admit it; you're just jealous."

"Me? Jealous?" Elsa questions.

"Uh-huh."

"I don't think that's it."

The redhead sings, "~Whatever you've got to tell yourself~." She turns back to her husband and says, "C'mon Kristoff; there's a lot I've got to tell you." She grabs his hand and pulls him to the castle, to Kristoff's surprise.

The queen watches poor Kristoff being dragged almost forcefully, feeling something off. "Is it just me, or are they hiding something?" Elsa asks the reindeer, having made a habit of talking to him, even though he doesn't answer. She probably got it from spending time with Kristoff. Sven is a good listener, though.

The reindeer brays and snorts in response, unsure himself. Smiling, the Snow Queen tickles under his chin, and she says goodbye to him and Olaf before walking to her home as well. She still has important, and boring, papers to do. She wonders if her father also thought that paperwork was evil.

As she walks, she feels a tinge of worry course through her form. She's relieved that her brother-in-law returned safely, but she now recalls her self-oath. How is she supposed to bring her problems up to her sister? She could just keep it to herself; it's much easier to do so. But, if she keeps it from Anna and she finds out, the queen will never hear the end of it.

For now, though, they look busy catching up, so maybe she won't have to approach her sister until after dinner, or tomorrow morning. Knowing Anna, she would want to update Kristoff on everything that happened since he was gone, which will most likely take all day.

But, there's something else she feels, one that is familiar to her. Depression. With a twinge of envy; one she ever rarely feels toward her sister. Alright, she may be a _little_ jealous that Anna has a husband. It's normal for an older sister to be jealous of their younger sister when they get married before them, right? But, she feels it goes deeper than just petty resentment. It might have been born around the time the news of her parents' death reached her. Back then, she did fall to a whole different level of anguish. When she was told that her family and only connection to the outside world is gone, she has never felt so destroyed before, so…alone.

Elsa stops and wipes a stray tear from her face. Even now, four years later, it still hurts greatly. But, she has to remain focused. There is still work to be done.

Looking around, she finds herself in the center of the castle's garden, somehow. The queen was more out of it than she thought if this is where she ended up. Beautiful flowers of multiple colors gleam in the sunlight. The bright grass waves gently in the morning breeze. Standing nearby is a willow tree with an embroidered stone bench underneath it. She recognizes the area. It's where she and her sister would be playing in the snow during winter. The willow tree is the one that her mother planted the first month she was queen of Arendelle. The bench is where she sat with her mother when Elsa scraped her knee one time. Her mother hugged her tight as little Elsa's tears stained her dress, singing a soft, if slightly morbid tune. The song would always calm her down no matter how much pain she was in. The queen can still recall every lyric and tune of it. Before she knew it, she started singing.

"_~From the heavens, I fall_

_Down Freya's mountain, I fly_

_Many see me as beautiful or terrible_

_And many wish me goodbye_

_When all I want is love and adore~"_

Nostalgia kicking in, Elsa walks to the bench and sits, feeling seven again, waiting for her mother to join. What would they say now, seeing their oldest daughter reunited with her sister, running a kingdom and keeping the peace and happiness? What would they say about her being in control of her powers? She wishes she could see them again.

"_~I bring happiness and joy_

_And I bring sorrow and hardships_

_They see the beauty I create_

_But they feel the pain I can't eclipse_

_For me, they feel nothing but bitter~"_

Perhaps it's not jealousy. Perhaps it's a deep sadness. A fear wedged deep in her soul. The thought of something very important missing in her heart. Yes, she has Anna, but she's only been able to mend her heart, not fill the small abyss. Is there a way to fill it?

She doesn't have any more time to ponder on the question as Kai walks out and says, "Ah; there you are, my queen. We still have a lot to do today."

"Yes. Of course." She gets up and follows the servant, looking back one last time at the bench, recalling all the memories it holds. Something within her soul sings,

"_~Along the winter's breeze, I glide_

_My magic, a work of art_

_But beware my anger and my cry_

_Beware my frozen heart_

_For I will be shackled no more~"_

* * *

A soft, piano melody plays in the air of the rundown inn. In the hearth, a soft fire blazes, giving off a sullen orange glow and warming the inhabitants from the storm outside. People, mostly big, burly men with more muscle than brains, sit at the wooden tables and the counter, gulping down the alcohol they ordered. Waitresses walk around the place, taking orders and talking to the inhabitants. The bartender lazily wipes a glass clean with an already-dirty towel.

One man with three glasses nearby, an ugly scar running down from his nose and across his mouth, calls to the bartender, "Another one, Dag," while placing a coin on the wood. Dag the bartender picks up a glass and pours the wanted beverage in, then hands it to the brute. He picks it up by the body and starts guzzling the burning drink.

Soft thunder erupts outside, and the door creaks open, signaling a newcomer. Everyone turns to see the new arrival, or rather arrivals. One is a tall man wearing a cloak, the hood currently covering his face, leaving only his mouth visible. All anyone could see in the cloak is a sort of black vest with a dark red shirt underneath, the sleeves changing the red to orange, and slim coal-colored jeans. His boots are dark brown and light, sturdy but flexible, and gloves finish his appearance. The inhabitants can spot a large sword hanging on his back, the pommel glinting eerily red.

His friend, a woman, has a cloak as well, but the hood is down instead. Her black hair is plastered around her face and neck from the storm and seems to have dark-blue highlights when the light hits it. Her skin is a pearl color, her red lips slightly open, and her blue eyes—deep and mysterious—appear to be unfocused. Her expression is emotionless. She wears a blue sleeved shirt underneath the cloak, the sleeves stretching slightly around the wrists. The shirt gives off an impression of flowing water rippling as it reaches down her body and arms. A dark blue dress with slits on both sides wraps around her lithe legs covered in black leggings, and her shoes are dark blue flats with ribbons wrapping around her ankles. She always seems to be moving, whether it's a piece of her hair, her arm, or some other part or clothing. On her left hand is a simple ring of a dark material.

All together; they are not normal visitors.

The man walks into the inn, the woman remaining close behind, and heads to the counter. The hood swivels slightly as he looks around, while the woman just stares ahead. The man takes a seat, places a coin on the counter, and says in a smooth voice, "I'd like the spiciest drink you have."

Dag eyes the man suspiciously, but he fulfills the order. Once he hands the man his drink and takes the payment, the bartender returns to his duties, but keeps his distance from the hooded figure. The man calmly sips his drink, unaware or ignoring of the bartender's attitude. The woman doesn't order or say anything.

The large brute with the scar slams his glass on the counter and gets up, facing the mysterious man. "Y'know, not many people like ya sorts visit here," he states in a deep, gruff voice.

"I don't see why not. This place has a sort of home-style sentiment, for a primitive watering hole."

"Perhaps I didn' make myself clear." He cracks his knuckles, and the other men in the tavern start getting up. "I'll make it clearer. You are not welcomed here. Yer friend on the other hand, well, maybe if she puts on a maid outfit…"

"I am sorry, but Sirena stays with me."

Sensing danger rising in the air, the maids start backing up, a few scurrying to other rooms, and the pianist halts his play, slowly scooting to the nearest exit.

"Fine, then. Guess I'll just kick ya both out." He grabs the newcomer by the cloak and lifts him up, although the intimidation loses some of its power when his feet are only millimeters from the ground. The brute grins, hoping to see fear in the man's eyes, but is shocked when he instead scoffs. "Please. Do you think you beasts can take on someone like me?"

"I think I'll take that as an insult." He lifts a fist up and says, "I'm gonna pound ya blue before tossing ya out like last month's garbage."

The man chuckles at the threat, angering the scarred man even more. But then, to his confusion, the hooded man calls out, "Sirena?"

Everyone turns to the woman, who starts moving since entering the bar by lifting a hand. To the spectators' alarm, water starts surging across her palm, rising and collecting into an orb about an inch above. Before anyone can react, she flicks her wrist, sending the ball of water into the fire, quickly extinguishing it and casting the place in deep shadows. The man with the scar tries to figure out what's going on, when his left wrist suddenly twists painfully, making him shout in agony and let go of his victim. Something then collides with his head, and he instantly collapses. The inn is swiftly filled with the various cries and grunts of pain. They try to fight back, but the only light comes from the flashing lightning that peeks through the windows, casting frightening images of a man rushing and pummeling them.

After two minutes of the unseen, one-sided skirmish, it all becomes silent. A small flame appears in the dark and is flicked into the fireplace, bathing the tavern with light again. The bartender peeks out from under the counter he subconsciously hid, and his eyes widen in utter shock.

All the men, men that can dent armor and snap any person they meet in half, are strewn all over the place, from atop tables to splay on the ground, all groaning and moaning. The woman hasn't moved from her original place, but the man is now by the fireplace, dusting off his now-gloveless hands. His hood is down, and Dag can now see his spiky, blazing red hair combed back.

"Well, that wasn't as great a challenge as I thought. Pity."

Taking a crossbow out from a secret compartment under the counter, he points it shakily at the man, ordering, "I want you two freaks out of my inn this instant!" He tries to sound as brave as possible, but he can't keep the fright from not coming out.

More water surges into Serena's palm, but the man raises a hand, stopping the young woman.

"Freaks?" he repeats, turning the bartender's attention back to the only man standing. "Oh no, my naïve peasant, we are not freaks." Now that the man is facing him, the bartender can see his eyes. They burn a fiery red, rage and destruction emitting from them like an inferno. He stares into them and sees villages being burned down, large bonfires lighting and scorching the land, and people screaming as the orange monstrosities eats their flesh.

"We are of a higher species. Ones you lesser beings cannot comprehend. You shrug us off as myths; a measly fairy tale to tell the children." As he talks, he walks closer to the bartender, making his hands quiver more. He holds his only defense with both hands, but it doesn't stop the crossbow from trembling.

"You see, we are beings with extraordinary power. These powers were entrusted to us by the gods themselves, claiming us worthy to control nature's wrath." He grabs the crossbow, and it suddenly bursts into flames, frightening the bartender. The flames lick the weapon, turning it black and unidentifiable, yet the man seems to not feel the fire on his bare hand. Soon, all that's left of the weapon is ash, some of which the man shakes off. A flame still envelops his skin, but, a flick of the wrist, it's extinguished.

"They are the marks of this world's next rulers, but you ignorant mortals keep locking us away, making us unable to accept our true calling. It sickens me.

"We will show you all who the true rulers of this world are. In fact, one is already a ruler, and I plan to help that person expand her reach further, as she is destined. Now, tell me, peasant." He grabs Dag's neck and pulls him over the counter, lifting the short man up to his flaming red eyes.

"What is the fastest route to Arendelle?"


End file.
